Rejected Worlds

Get outta there. You don’t want those.

Come up here. Look, kid. New, shiny worlds. Fresh for the taking. Don’t you want one of these? Think of the possibilities. Take one blank world, and what will you create?

Those? Those’re rejected worlds. Some writer came in, bought the world, populated it with her best people and plots, poured ink and pixels into an empty landscape to manufacture a wonder.

And look what happened.

She trots it out to meet the world, the real world, not one she created… and no one’s buyin’. I see a lotta them in the shop. They come back, toss away the little earth they spent so long creatin’, and try to leave in a huff. Most of them want a different world, and yeah, if they can pay, I sell them another world. Continue reading “Rejected Worlds”

Blank Worlds

Well, kid, you’re back. Naw, it’s fine. If you’re willin’ to pay. Here, let me put down my cigarette and show off the wares.

They sure are something, ain’t they? All those little worlds, blank and just waitin’ for someone to take them home.

Sure, sure, it’ll take lots of time. But every world’s a little different. Maybe a few hours to rough out something nice and small. Or maybe decades. Depends on the size of the idea you want to plant on this nice new little earth I sell you.

What the hey, kid? You got a lot o’ chutzpah, comin’ in here, thinkin’ you can buy an new earth and just watch it! Continue reading “Blank Worlds”

The Shopkeeper Mutters, “You Gotta Pay.”

You want one of these?

You can’t afford it. You have any idea how much work it takes to deal with one of ’em? Trust me, it ain’t worth your time, your money, your energy.

No, I ain’t blowin’ smoke in your face. Well, I am, but that’s cause my cigarette smoke’s gotta go somewhere, and your face is just such a nice target. Wouldn’t want to waste the smoke on the nice cracked linoleum floor, would I? But I ain’t lyin’. You can’t afford dealin’ with a new earth.

Now that guy, over there? See him? Big shot. He’s got all the time in the world to take care of a new earth like this one. He can sit on his tookus all day, dreaming up ways to mess with that blank world and put on all sorts of interesting people and situations. Authors. Real authors I mean, like that guy? He’s got what you ain’t. Continue reading “The Shopkeeper Mutters, “You Gotta Pay.””